Seasonal Feathers

Chapter 7

A/N: *looks* *does a double take* "Whaaaaaaatt??? An update?! I thought that author died a long time ago, huh." But no, I'm back! I'll skip the apology spiel because it's literally just like every one you've ever read in not only my works, but every single other fanfiction on earth, so let's get to it! Enjoy, loves❤️
--------------------------------------------

"What about this one?"

Matthew glanced up from his cookbook just in time to have another one almost break his nose. He lurched backward, catching himself before his chair could tip him onto the floor. Why does this seem to happen so often? And why is Gil always somehow involved?

"Oops, sorry Birdie," Gilbert said hastily, setting down the book. Matthew chuckled lightly, accustomed to the German's antics. He collected himself, taking his own book when it was handed to him; it had fallen on the floor.

"Thanks." He began flipping through the pages until he found the recipe he was on before, marked it, and set the book aside. Then Matthew turned to Gilbert and motioned for him to show his findings.

The German presented his page with a flourish, careful this time to keep it where Matthew could actually see it without going crosseyed.

Matthew glanced over the recipe before reading the title. "German pancakes, huh?" He grinned. "That's... actually really perfect." He skimmed over the recipe. "Ooh, they puff up?"

Gilbert nodded proudly. "Luddy and I used to have them all the time growing up. They're the most awesome thing ever. You gotta have 'em with powdered sugar and lemon, of course, there's no other way. I knew the recipe was here somewhere, just took a little looking."

Matthew grinned, reading over the recipe some more. The pancakes looked good, and with a little maple Matthew-style infusion, they would be perfect.

"Well, it looks like we've got our dish!" Gilbert rubbed his hands together, then grabbed Matthew and spun him in a circle. The angel yelped and scrambled for balance, managing to get his feet in order while Gilbert held him up. They spun again,  laughing.

"I don't know why I'm in such a good mood," Gilbert said, "usually the only thing that makes me dance is one too many beers."

Matthew knew the feeling. Well, not the beer part, but he knew what Gilbert meant about his humor. The blond was elated this morning for some reason; they both were ever since Matthew had banged into the house earlier that evening with his idea to ditch for Hyldest. He had hardly been able to wait until Ludwig left for work before barreling in.

Gilbert started to let go, and disappointment flooded through Matthew for some reason. The German kept hold of one hand though, leading Matthew to the door and out onto the porch. He grabbed a coat in one hand and tossed it over the angel's wings, and although it was dark by now, Matthew appreciated the gesture. He also appreciated that Gilbert didn't even appear to notice the action; it was just something he did out of reflex.

The two ventured into the forest in unvoiced agreement. Both pretended, either to themselves or each other, that they didn't notice the fact that their hands were still clasped.

Crickets chirped around the two. Somewhere, an owl hooted softly. Matthew and Gilbert wandered along the trail until they reached their favorite spot: a tiny peninsula that overlooked a pond.

The black water lapped softly at the shoreline, disturbed only by the quiet plop of some creature slipping down into its depths. Willow trees surrounded the area, shielding it from view. Their leaves rustled softly in the breeze. Matthew broke away gently and went to lean against a tree. He breathed deeply, enjoying the aroma of peat moss and pine.

Gilbert broke the silence.

"We should probably just turn around here," he murmured, sounding reluctant, "it's getting late, and your flight home is long enough. You'll be tired."

Matthew hummed softly. "Too long. I don't want to go back." He opened his eyes and stared at Gilbert. "I want to stay here," he decided suddenly, "I don't want to ever go back, I'm so much happier here; right here, with you."

The angel's face went red when he realized what he had blurted out. It had been creeping up on his mind for some time, of course, but saying it aloud was a different matter. The blond couldn't tell in the dark, but he thought that he saw Gilbert's pale face flush a little as well.

Instead of replying, though, Matthew's companion joined him where he sat against the tree. He took a deep sip of the night air, drinking in the night as though it were his store's finest liquor. Silence descended once more. Gilbert reached out then, pulling Matthew into a side hug. The angel leaned into him, feeling his apprehension melt away a little.

They sat like that for a while, not saying anything. Matthew dozed a little, laying his head on Gilbert's chest and feeling the thu-thump of his heartbeat. The German's chin rested on Matthew's hair, and his breathing steadily synched with the angel's.

"Alright," he said into the blond hair, "let's stay here tonight. Ludwig's used to me being spontaneous, it's part of why I'm so awesome. He probably won't notice if he comes home and I'm not there yet."

Matthew smiled, snuggling deeper into Gilbert's shirt. Usually he would check himself and be embarrassed, but by that point the angel didn't care. Neither did Gilbert, obviously, because he simply pulled Matt closer and wrapped him in a warm embrace.

The two shifted into a more comfortable position, clearing a small space on the plush grass that lined the lake. Matthew's wing came up and lay across their bodies. Warmth radiated from the soft down. Feeling a shift in the air, Matthew cracked open one eye and glanced at Gilbert. The German was watching him; his eyes glinted merrily, seeming to capture the moonlight and reflect it twice as brightly.

Gilbert brought one hand up and hesitantly ran it through Matthew's hair. When there was no protest from the angel, he continued the methodical stroking. Matthew's eyelids started to get heavy, but before he drifted off the Canadian roused himself. He had to say something.

"Gil," it came out as a mutter.

"I love you."

The stroking stopped.

Matthew looked up, afraid that he had read the situation wrong somehow. Gilbert was staring at him, but the blond couldn't see his expression. After a few excruciating seconds, he spoke.

"Really?" There was a hopeful note in his voice that gave Matthew the courage to nod. A flash of white told him that Gil was grinning. Laughing at him?

"I love you too, Birdie. Always have."

Matthew almost cried with relief. Gilbert pulled him up and squeezed him tightly, almost desperately; like he would never let go. Their lips found each other and the two kissed passionately, as if making up for lost time.

They finally broke apart, panting slightly. Each considered going for another, but in the end the angel and the human simply curled up together and closed their eyes.

Matthew was finally lulled into sleep by the surrounding noises. Most comforting, though, was Gilbert's steady breathing. Each slow intake of air cemented his presence and reassured Matthew that nothing could change that.

Someone was here, someone who loved him. Him. The breathing was coming from an individual who noticed him, knew him. Now that the angel knew what that felt like, he would die before he lost it.

--------------------------------------------
A/N: Well, we all know where Matthew stands. Poor baby. Also: I'm unnecessarily excited about the German Pancakes because my mom used to make those all the time when I was little, and we called them puffy pancakes, so these hit me right in the childhood. That's about it, so signing off!
~LJ